p For the Soviet Union 1947 was a history-making year, austere and portentous. Some of the war wounds had been healed. Industrial output was back at prewar level. The dry, precise figures of the Central Statistical Board spoke of a gigantic labour effort in the war-ravaged west of the traditionally Russian territory that had been the scene of titanic battles.

p On the ruins of towns and villages, factories and mines, a life of peace was being rebuilt by men just back from the war. Army greatcoats, shirts and boots carrying the dust of Europe were standard apparel. Life was hard, the problems gigantic. The war-ravaged country had to be put back on its feet, and this by its own effort if it wanted to look to the future with assurance. The one motive was to return life to normal as quickly as possible for a nation that had borne the brunt of the most terrible war in history.

p The people of the Soviet Union had earned the right to a steep rise in living standards and, much more, the right to repose and tranquillity after the crushing ordeal of war. Though much was being done, there was much more that still had to be done. And it wasn’t just a question of war’s aftermaths, which were in evidence at every step. Even after Victory, much of the country’s resources were being claimed by what were now called defensive rather than military needs. It was clear even before the guns had fallen silent that defence would be imperative. The blinding explosions over Hiroshima and Nagasaki had been a stern warning to mankind of what imperialism, armed with the latest weapons, was liable to inflict on the world. At the turning from war to peace, therefore, the U.S.S.R. had to marshal tremendous funds for the development of new, highly expensive weapon 13 systems, first of all atomic arms. And this at a time when every rouble counted. Naturally, this affected the life of the Soviet people.

p In 1947, Colonel-General E. I. Smirnov, who had headed the wartime medical service of the Soviet Armed Forces, changed from military into civilian clothes, and assumed the post of Health Minister of the U.S.S.R. To his new office he brought his extraordinary gifts and experience: no other belligerent army had had as high a percentage of recoveries from wounds as had the Red Army, and throughout the war, at the grimmest times, there had been no epidemics of infectious diseases. Smirnov tackled his new job with the usual energy. He toured the war-ruined provinces, and was stunned. In the Donets Basin area, in the city of Makeyevka, hospital patients were given their meals in tin cans. These much used cans were before his mind’s eye when he reported to the government on the priority needs of his ministry. It needed money. And money was allocated, but the sums were far less than needed.

Joseph Stalin admitted Smirnov’s concern to be legitimate, but said that in his position the minister certainly knew of the development of atomic arms and where the money was going. That was why so many crying needs were being put off. But there was no other choice. A deadly peril had again arisen for the Soviet people which had saved European civilisation from the Nazis.